


Traditions

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison Argent & Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek, Future Fic, Implied Magical Stiles, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Ugly Sweaters, basically ignores and/or rewrites canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: It was something his mom used to do and Stiles enjoyed it too much to stop.





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by  
>   
> as seen on [just-another-otp-prompt-blog](https://just-another-otp-prompt-blog.tumblr.com).
> 
> Written for the [12 days of sterek](http://12daysofsterek.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> As always, comments, kudos and constructive critism encouraged. Let me know if tags are missing or rating's off.

It was something his mom had done. Each year in the last week of November she’d bring the box down from the attic, wash and dry the contents and then from December 1st until the 25th she’d be wearing these truly hideous sweaters. His dad would join in the fun from time to time though it was clear that he only did it to indulge his wife, not because he understood the point of it. But Stiles? Oh, Stiles had taken one look at the sweater his mom was wearing the winter he’d just turned five (a monstrosity of a hoodie shaped like a tree, complete with garlands and a star on top) and he’d been unstoppable ever since.

It had been their thing, a game where each of them had tried to find both the funniest sweaters and also the ugliest. The year she died Stiles had brought the box down from the attic and spent hours crying into the dusty garment before drying his eyes and determinedly getting up and wash them.  
He’d worn his favorite to school the next day not caring the least about the things the other kids were saying when seeing the thing.

There had been more crying the year Stiles had brought down the box only to realize none of the sweaters would fit him; sure, his mother’s were big enough to cover him but the fit was all wrong and the sleeves felt more like a not too tight straight jacket than a sweater; it felt like losing her all over again and that was how his dad had found him: Eyes red and puffy and the tree-shaped sweater that had started it all those years ago clutched tightly in his hands.  
The Sheriff had earned himself the beginnings of an ever growing collection of “World’s greatest dad”-mugs that day when he’d taken Stiles sweater shopping in all the stores his mother had used to frequent, and paid for no less than twelve sweaters, one uglier than the next.

By the time Stiles was sixteen and dragged Scott into the woods that fatal night, the good citizens of Beacon Hills were used to see the Sheriff’s delinquent son wearing abominable sweaters all through December and his peers had stopped trying to bully him for it (Stiles had gotten a week’s detention in 8th grade punching Jackson Whittemore in the face, but as he never mentioned the sweaters again neither did anybody else). And just because the world had somehow expanded to involving werewolves and hunters Stiles saw no reason not to uphold his sweater tradition.

He kept hold of it during the entirety of the shitstorm that was the rest of high school, ignoring every jibe thrown his way from the pack – before he managed to knock some sense into Derek’s head and the guy actively worked on being a proper alpha, slowly getting Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Scott to actually become a pack – and whichever bad guy they fought that week. There was a memorable occasion during the alpha pack debacle where Deucalion just had to insult the sweater Stiles was wearing (and really, how did the blind guy even know what Stiles’ clothes looked like) and that had been the end as Stiles had thrown mountain ash at the bastard and somehow managed to trap the whole alpha pack, to later be taken care of by Deaton.

Boyd had been the first to give him one. It was the Christmas after they’d all left for college, they’d all gotten back to Beacon Hills the day before and had convened at Derek’s house – the alpha had declared it pack house and given them all a key before giving them a brief tour that simply consisted in pointing out which room was theirs and letting them know they were in charge of decorating it themselves – to have a Christmas dinner.  
Stiles had volunteered himself and Allison to cook (he missed cooking while away and Allison was the only one who could both cook and not kill Stiles in the kitchen), had conscripted Derek to do the shopping and made the rest of the pack do all the tedious grunt work. It had been worth the long, hot hours when the mountain of food they’d made had vanished amidst talking and laughing and some of Derek’s rare smiles.

When the food’s gone and everything cleared away they all made themselves comfortable, sitting in a loose circle around the festively decorated tree. Soon they were all engrossed in unwrapping their gifts, paper and ribbons flying everywhere accompanied by ‘thank you’s and hugs in appreciation of the things hidden beneath the paper. Stiles, sitting between Derek and Scott, was leaning with his head on Derek’s shoulder his eyes half closed as fatigue was rapidly setting in when Boyd was suddenly handing him a gift, a shy smile on his usually stoic face.  
Surprised Stiles took it wondering what it could be – he already had a small pile containing a brand new laptop (courtesy of the whole pack), gift certificates, some clothes, a few books and the like – but the present itself didn’t give any clue as to what is was.

In one smooth move Stiles ripped off the paper revealing a small cardboard box that he opened even quicker. From it fell something soft and once he got his hands on it and lifted it enough to be able to see it a smile broke out on his face.  
Not giving anybody time to see what he’d gotten he got to his feet and made his way towards the bathroom. Once safely behind the locked door he took off his sweater (a blue one with fuzzy decorations hanging from a tree) and replaced it with Boyd’s gift. He took a few minutes to admire the thing and making sure it fit right, when satisfied with the result he opened the door and with a brief detour to the kitchen getting a fresh cup of coffee he made his way back to the couch.  
There’s a small smile grazing Boyd’s lips when he sees Stiles wearing the sweater, and it only grows wider at Erica’s delighted laugh.

College is lonely in a way he wasn’t prepared for.  
It’s not that he doesn’t make friends or attend parties and whatever else he’s doing to get the “full college experience”, it’s more that he can’t be _honest_ about things he does and the friends he has back home. In the long run it grates, makes him pull back from his new friends.  
He tries talking with Scott, but his best friend is so happy finally being _normal_ (Stiles doesn’t bring up the fact that Scott really isn’t any more) that he doesn’t really get it; in the end he calls Lydia who lets him rant for nearly a full hour without as much as a sigh to announce her displeasure, he think it’s the closest he’s ever gotten to a declaration of love from her and something warm settles in his chest at the thought.  
Once he’s done talking she simply tells him to call Derek, finishes with an easy “of course I love you, Stiles, you’re my friend” and then she hangs up.

He thinks about it for days. Or, rather, he agonizes about it for days. On the one hand it makes sense; if anybody would be able to relate to Stiles’ issues and possibly offer a solution that was somewhat useful it would be Derek, after all he’s spent his entire life hiding half of what he is to anybody but his family.  
On the other hand it’s _Derek_ , and even if they’ve come a long way from the animosity of the early days, Stiles still isn’t entirely convinced the alpha actually likes him. Not to mention the teeny tiny crush he may or may not be harboring on the man.  
Of course he ends up calling him though he’s rendered speechless for a full minute by the shock of Derek actually answering.

At first it really isn’t anything but getting advice on how to navigate between people who don’t know of the supernatural aspect of reality. It soon morphs into something else entirely, as Stiles takes to texting Derek whenever he has a spare minute, and one day while texting some complaint about the essay he’s supposed to write about a subject he couldn’t care less about he realizes that Derek has replaced Scott as the person Stiles tells everything.  
He freaks out because that’s what you do when you realize your crush has somehow become your best friend while you weren’t looking, but once he’s done he begins compartmentalizing and when the essay’s handed in and returned with an A, they’re talking as often as they did before.

By the time Christmas rolls around again Stiles is the first one back in Beacon Hills and before long he finds himself in Derek’s kitchen cooking Christmas dinner for the whole pack with Derek helping him.  
They work together as if they’ve done it for years, a well-oiled machine where one always know where the other is, neither ever have to voice what’s missing as they already knows, is already reaching for whatever tool or food item to hand the other. It’s not quiet though; they talk - well, Stiles talk and when he needs to breathe Derek’s interjecting something, showing off the driest sense of humor Stiles has ever encountered but that his texts has hinted at and Stiles is delighted to be subjected to in person.  
Even better though is when Derek _laughs_ , open and joyous and Stiles thinks he maybe falls a little more than he already had.

This year it’s Isaac who hands him a soft present but this time Stiles opts to stay on the couch as he takes off the sweater he’s wearing and replacing it with the one he’s just gotten. It’s truly horrible, the sleeves are grey with little snowflakes on them while the rest is neon green, the stomach adorned with a drunken looking reindeer sitting in a sleigh getting pulled by sleigh dogs - Stiles promptly names them after the pack because he’s still a little shit. Derek smiles fondly though nobody really notices in the ensuing fight that leaves them all a little ruffled and ready for a midnight snack.

By late January Stiles is 99 percent sure one of the students in class is a supernatural being. He conscript Derek(‘s nose) to sniff out the truth.  
It turns out the girl’s a werewolf and by the time she and Derek are done getting acquainted it’s late and since Stiles doesn’t currently have a roommate he offers Derek a bed to sleep in.  
It becomes their new normal. Every so often Derek will drive down, meet with Leesha’s pack and then sleep on the empty bed in Stiles’ room; depending on the load of work Stiles needs to do Derek will either sit quietly and read the next day, watch movies with him or even take him outside and get reacquainted with the fresh air. On one memorable occasion Derek even agrees to go to a frat party with him, and even if he looks like he going to murder everybody there he still agrees to dance with Stiles, which the human considers enough of a win that he tells Scott about it when they talk a few days later.

In March Stiles gets a new roommate, he also somehow forgets to tell Derek and doesn’t realize until he’s frowning at the bed. Stiles takes a deep breath before gathering all his courage and practically squeaking through an offer of sharing his bed. Derek’s only response is stripping off his clothes until he’s only in his boxers and then slip under the covers.  
They don’t talk about the way they wake up with their limbs tangled, Derek’s chest pressed against Stiles’ back, Stiles facing the wall even though he’d been laying on the outer side when going to sleep; there are lots of things they don’t talk about, though most pointedly they don’t talk about the fact that even during the summer while Stiles (and the rest of the pack) are back in Beacon Hills do the two of them end up sharing a bed more often than not.

The Jeep finally gives up shortly before thanksgiving and he’s not ashamed to admit he was crying when he told first his dad and then Derek. He’s resigned to having to stay at the dorms during the weekend, figuring he may as well study if he can’t go see his dad and friends, so imagine his surprise when he gets back after the final class and sees a black camaro where his jeep had been when he left that morning.  
He practically runs up the stairs to his door where Derek’s standing, a smile on his face as he lays eyes on Stiles and he doesn’t even think, simply jumps into Derek spread arms hugging him with all his might. They don’t really talk as Stiles quickly throws things inside a duffel bag, locks the door behind him and takes his place in the passenger seat.

They’re an hour into the car ride when Stiles finally stops fiddling with the radio and sing along to every song he knows (and the ones he doesn’t, though he thinks his lyrics were even better than the original) and turns to look at Derek. He looks like he did last time Stiles saw him, though perhaps there’s a little more grey in his beard and his eyebrows aren’t as serious as they used to be. There are even visible laugh lines on his face something Stiles is slightly in awe of because Derek’s laugh is the thing rainbows are made of and for him to be laughing and smiling enough to leave actual marks is amazing in Stiles’ humble opinion.

  
The rest of the drive is filled with Stiles telling stories of college and how he can’t wait for it to be over so he can come _home_ (he does notice, but chooses not to comment, the satisfied smile on Derek’s lips when he says that), of Derek offering a few tidbits of what has happened in Beacon Hills since Christmas interspersed with the both of them laughing at everything and nothing. It’s comfortable and familiar and once he’s over the surprise of it he’s filled with something warm, pride and awe that Derek’s willing to share this with him, because despite being more relaxed around the pack now than he used to be, he’s still not anywhere near as carefree as he is right here and now, driving towards Beacon Hills with Stiles at his side.  
Stiles should’ve probably gotten the hint by then.

Another Christmas comes and goes though this time he has to stay at campus during break, too much research and too much to write and he can’t afford being distracted by anything – least of all Derek’s.. well, everything – though he makes sure to take a few hours off to face time with the pack, eating his dinner with them; it’s not exactly nice but it’s okay and he only misses them a little bit. He alleviate the sudden burst of homesickness by putting on the sweater Isaac had given him, smiling fondly at the dogs he’s named after the pack, including those who don’t turn during the full moon.

He thought he got away with it, too, until there’s a knock on his door a few hours before the year comes to an end, and when he opens there’s Derek in a pair of comfortable looking jeans and a blue henley; Stiles wordlessly steps aside, letting him come inside. They celebrate the New Year’s with a bang.

**A few years later**

The pack shows up to help decorate the house and put up the lights that Stiles insists on every year. They hang their coats in the hall and make their way to the living room where their alpha and his mate seem to have maybe forgotten the date and time. It’s Scott’s shriek that alerts them to the pack’s presence and they jump apart looking like guilty teenagers.

There’s a stunned silence as the pack takes in the sight; Stiles has been wearing these sweaters long enough that nobody’s bats an eye no matter what’s on them, but Derek? Nobody had ever dreamt that the alpha would deign to wear one of those monstrosities, but there he stands and it fits well enough that it’s reasonable to presume it was bought for him and not just one of Stiles’ he wearing for the fun of it.  
Derek’s ears are a little red as if he’s embarrassed by being found out but there’s also a satisfied smiled on his lips as he puts an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling him closer and pecking him chastely on the lips.

End


End file.
